


Road Trip

by MykaWells



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Bromance, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykaWells/pseuds/MykaWells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The whole gang is packed into Myka's car for a really, really long drive...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted over on tumblr as myka-wells. It's a one shot inspired by the following anon prompt: "Could you do a one-shot that emphasizes their friendship as well as love? Because while Bering and Wells are my otp, they are also my brotp." So here we have a fic that focuses on the bromancey-ness of pretty much the entire Warehouse 13 crew with a touch of Bering and Wells...

“I cannot believe I consented to this torture.”

Myka grinned and shook her head at how absolutely melodramatic Helena could be when she wanted to.

“It’s not that bad, Helena,” Myka said as she glanced in the rearview mirror. Helena pulled a face and wrinkled her nose as if resisting a very strong impulse to cop even more of an attitude than she already had.

"Didn’t you go on long trips all the time in horse drawn carriages?" Myka asked. "This can’t be any worse than that."

"On those occasions I at least knew what I was getting myself into," Helena said. She shifted in her seat. "I was also afforded quite a bit more personal space."

“Well, I use to go road trips all the time with my parents and sister,” Myka said. “It’s not so bad once you get use to it.”

Helena half smiled and rolled her eyes as Myka smirked and turned back to the long, empty road ahead of her.

“Yes, but I very much doubt _your_  road trips were spent sitting between a man child and his young redheaded travel companion.”

 

"That wasn’t my decision," Myka said.

“She’s right. You lost rock, paper, scissors all on your own H.G.,” Claudia chimed in.

“Yup,” Pete added. “You lost fair and square, which means that loser gets the middle seat. Those are the road trip rules.”

“I hardly see how a game of hand gestures should determine such things,” Helena said.

Myka heard her sigh flop back dramatically into her seat. She was probably scowling now, because, in the hour before the trip, Helena had done a full statistical workup to determine her best chances of winning her choice of seats. The one things she hadn’t realized was that everyone knew what she was up to, so both Pete and Claudia did the exact opposite of what Helena’s research had anticipated.

“Well, Pete and Claudia can be good company,” Myka said. “Right, guys?”

“Totally,” Pete said. “We’re awesome company.”

“Not when they’re playing increasingly silly and unstructured games and using me as some kind of human shield,” Helena said.

“Oh, come on, H.G.,” Steve added from the passenger seat. “It can’t be  _that_  bad.”

Steve’s knowing smirk as Helena stared him down made it clear that he knew otherwise. Because Pete had of course grown increasingly rambunctious, and taken advantage of Claudia’s restlessness to start road trip games that were largely meant to cause as much mischief in the confined space as possible.

“Yeah, I’m lots of fun,” Pete said.

Myka could see out of her periphery as Pete took the opportunity to demonstrate how fun he was by affectionately ruffling Helena’s hair. Myka imagined must have earned him a murderous glare;  very few people were allowed to touch that hair, and Pete had definitely not made that list.

“Like I said, utter  _torture_ ,” Helena said while looking directly into the rearview mirror to address Myka. “Positively barbaric back here.”

Myka bit her lip to keep from smiling.

 “Hey, we’re not torture,” Pete said as he plucked a nut off the seat next to Helena and ate it. “These are ideal conditions for road trip fun, right Claude?”

“Definitely,” Claudia said as she picked a raisin from the trail mix bag and tossed it her mouth. “You should totally join in. I mean, how often do we get to team up to annoy Pete?”

“All the time, you three women do it, teaming up on me all. the. time,” Pete said as he reached across Helena for a handful of the snack mix from the bag resting on Claudia’s lap. “Right, Steve?”

Steve shook his head.

“I am not getting involved in this,” he said. “There is not way it ends well.”

“See, Jinksy’s got it right,” Claudia said as she patted his shoulder from behind. “You’re a smart guy, buddy.”

“A wise man, indeed,” Helena said. “But I am not going to involved myself in some foolish game that involves annoying your opponent as much as possible where then only rule is that you cannot touch one another.”

“Oh well,” Claudia said as she picked a nut from the snack mix and examined it. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun though.”

Myka sensed some kind of movement behind her so she glanced into the rearview mirror.

Myka smirked at the absurdity of the scene behind her. Helena glared at Pete as he successfully used her for a human shield against the nuts that Claudia was trying to throw at him.

Helena leaned forward between the front seats so that she was between Steve and Myka with her arms resting on the console. She gently rested her hand on his Myka’s arm and exhaled as if to regain her patience.

“Can you tell me again,  _darling_ , why it is we are not flying to this Warehouse family reunion?”

Myka just smiled and shook her head. Helena knew very well that they were driving because they’d been unable to get a flight on such short notice during 4th of July weekend.

“Fireworks, H.G.,” Steve added helpfully. “Americans love travelling for a good fireworks show.”

“ _Americans_ ,” Helena muttered as she sat back in her seat.  “You’re awfully pleased with all your perceived freedom, aren’t you?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Claudia said.

“We love us some red, white and blue,” Pete added helpfully through a mouthful of trail mix.

“You do realize that the country you are celebrating independence from uses the same colors in their flag? As do a number other countries? So saying that is not necessarily a patriotic sentiment,” Helena replied.

“You really are  _so_  British sometimes,” Pete said.

“English,” Helena corrected. “I am still quite English, Pete.”

It was a little game they played, one where Pete would intentionally call her British, and Helena would invariably correct him with the same feigned annoyance each time.

“My sincerest apologies, your highness,” Pete said in a poor imitation of Helena’s accent. “Might I offer you a serving of the most American of all beverages, a Coca Cola?”

Myka cringed as she heard the crack and fizz as Pete opened the soda can in the back seat of her car. She looked in the rearview mirror again to make sure Pete was very, very careful about handling the drink. He was being careful, comically so, as he presented the soda to Helena. Helena rolled her eyes and half-smiled despite her best efforts to maintain a perpetual frown.

“I  _am_  quite thirsty,” Helena said as bowed her head and took the drink.

Myka looked back at the road and a moment later heard the crack and fizz of another can opening in the backseat, then another. She knew that meant that Pete had decided to drink two different flavored sodas at a time, or ‘double fist’ as Pete would put it.

“Pete?” Myka said without turning around or looking at him.

“Yeah, Mykes?”

“Can we take it easy on the soda party back there?”

“You know I’m always careful, Mykes,” Pete said. “And why doesn’t H.G. get the stern warning too?”

“Because Helena has never spilled Sprite all over the back seat of my car before. Helena also won’t be on a sugar high and begging me to pull over so she can pee in the bushes, because  _she_  hasn’t had two already in the past hour,” Myka said.

“Hey, that spill was once, and someone definitely shook it right before!”

Myka bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile at Pete protesting like a little kid getting in trouble for making a mess.

“I was the only other one there and you had just bought it at the gas station,” Myka said. “If anyone shook it, it was you.”

“I dunno, I still think it could’ve been you,” Pete said.

“It wasn’t, Pete. Why on Earth would I shake a soda bottle that was going to explode in my car?”

“Maybe so that you could hold onto it for years and nag me about it on insanely long car rides,” Pete said. “You’re kind of evil genius like that.”

“No, that would be me you’re thinking of,” Helena said after a sip from her drink. “I’m quite certain I am supposed to be the evil genius of the group.”

“And I’m one of her minions,” Claudia added as Myka heard the crinkling of what must have been the empty snack mix bag. “Her little hacking minion.”

“Well, Myka’s still sneaky enough to pull it off,” Pete said with overblown suspicion.

“I guarantee you I did not shake your soda bottle,” Myka said. “And it took  _weeks_  to get rid of the stickiness.”

“She’s telling the truth. On both counts,” Steve said, turning to smirk at Pete. “Just in case you’re curious.”

“Gee, thanks Jinksy,” Pete said, punching Steve on the arm. “What a swell guy you are, helping a partner out like that.”

“Any time,” Steve said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Now that we have that settled, will you please just take it easy?” Myka asked. “For everyone’s sanity?”

“Alright,  _mom_ ,” Pete grumbled. “Here, Claudia, you take this one.”

“Yay! A soda from Pete’s personal stash,” Claudia said. She slurped noisily so that Pete could hear. “Ahh, hits the spot.”

Pete sighed dramatically.

“I just have one more question for you though, Mykes,” Pete said.

“What?”

“Were those the only reasons that I got a soda warning and H.G. didn’t?” Pete asked.

“I don’t think I need any other reasons,” Myka replied as she adjusted her grip in the steering wheel.

“Not what I asked,” Pete said, then he leaned forward over the console. “Is there, or is there not, another reason that Helena gets no warning?”

“No, of course not,” Myka said. Even as she said it, Myka felt the color creep up her neck and into her cheeks.

“What do you say, Jinksy? That’s a big old fib, isn’t it?”

Jinks nodded.

“I’d say so,” Steve said, then took another look at Myka. “Yep, for sure.”

Myka shot him a dirty look.

“Hey,” he said, holding his hands up. “Not my fault. I can’t lie.”

“So there  _is_  another reason,” Pete said. “I wonder what on earth could it  _possibly_  be?”

“Oh, come off it, Pete,” Helena said. “It should come as no surprise that she is going to be a bit more forgiving of someone who… _satisfies_  her with a great deal of frequency and success.”

Pete smiled gleefully and Claudia look a little bit mortified.

“Whoa, now, ok,” Claudia said. “We can just pump the breaks right there. You’re cute together, but hearing that you do it like rabbits is a little bit TMI for the children in the vehicle.”

“Yes,  _Helena_ ,” Myka said pointedly.

“What? They all know that we are in a committed relationship,” Helena said defensively. “Nothing I said suggests something they don’t all already know or suspect.”

“Well, Pete definitely did not need the encouragement,” Myka said, looking in the rearview mirror and smiling, because it was, she had learnt, very difficult to look at Helena and not smile. “It’s a good thing I already love you.”

“My dashing good looks always did get me out of all manner of trouble,” Helena said.

Claudia laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Claudia said. “It’s just that I don’t think it’s only the looks H.G. Remember the time you and Myka got whammied, lost your memories of each other and were basically turned into shadows? You couldn’t really see each other and you guys were still joined at the hip. Talking about books and philosophy, and just having, like, this epic bromance that I was honestly kind of jealous of. Although it was kind of weird watching shadows talk to one another.”

“That was actually one of my more pleasant negative reactions to an artifact,” Helena said airily, as she did when reminiscing about something pleasing. “Wouldn’t you say Myka?”

“I’ve had worse whammies,” Myka said in what she hoped sounded relatively neutral.

Given the information Helena had already shared, Myka did not want to give away the fact that she knew for sure, after those 18 hours spent quarantined in the warehouse, that she could spend her entire life in conversation with Helena. Just listening, talking and sharing ideas, reading and reciting poetry and prose for one another.

Helena, she’d learnt, had a brilliant mind, with a capacity for both scientific logic and a creative, inventive playfulness. Myka’s minds seemed to feed off of that and vice versa, as they bounced ideas and theories back and forth. They’d actually ended up coming to some truly exciting insights regarding the philosophy and fiction of Camus and other existential writers as it related to contemporary dystopian science fiction.

When Pete and Claudia had finally bagged the artifact, a collection of shadow people drawing submitted to a popular radio show, all of her memories of Helena snapped back into focus. It was all way too overwhelming to experience at one time, but Myka had hung onto the simpler memory of their conversation as shadows, friendly discussion and bonding without the history and tension, sexual and otherwise. It was just them, bonding over shared interests and a love of literature.

Helena later confessed she’d done the same, had held tight to those memories when all the other returning memories threatened to cause something akin to sensory overload. The simple pleasure of conversation in their hours quarantined together had been an anchor as the more complex emotions and memories swirled around her head and settled back into their proper place.

Since that time, they’d made a point of spending at least an hour a week together in the Warehouse library reading philosophy and science fiction together.

“Oh, man, that  _was_ actually a pretty cool one,” Pete said. “Scary, because, you know, shadow people, but still cool. Like a spooky kind of cool.”

“Oh, you know what was even cooler,” Claudia said excitedly. “The slender man artifact. So creepy cool. That was totally awesome.”

Pete shivered at the memory of the artifact which allowed people to see slender men in the shadows right before major life events.

“So glad I didn’t get whammied by that one. I’m going with just plain creepy,” he said. “Now the  _Twilight_  vampire artifact, that was cool. Made me sparkly and irresistible to women.”

“But it also made you increasingly broody and controlling,” Steve said as he glanced back at Pete. “So there’s that.”

And that set Pete, Claudia, and, to a lesser extent Steve, off on a spirited conversation of the coolest artifacts and funniest whammies.

Myka just listened to them banter back and forth about all manner of embarrassing whammy behaviors, their game of “I’m not touching you” forgotten for the moment.

Myka glanced in the rearview mirror for a second see how Helena was reacting to the conversation. She wasn’t adding much, but appeared to be enjoying the banter, listening intently, laughing and smiling as she heard for the first time about the ABBA artifact that made Pete think he was the dancing queen.

Helena caught Myka’s eye, smiled brightly, and winked at her. There was no reason for it, no inside joke, and it was only a split second moment. This was just Helena acknowledging Myka, offering a show of affection that only Myka would see. Myka smiled back and nodded before turning her full attention back to the open road.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you have any thoughts on this little thing here :)


End file.
